


Baby Gate

by donnarafiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Scorpius Malfoy, Burn Scars and Wounds, Domestic Fluff, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Has Low Self-Esteem, Draco Malfoy is a Good Parent, Fluff, Getting Together, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Happy Ending, Harassment, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Furniture Creator Harry Potter, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Poverty, Secondary Theme: Pottermore Fair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2020-10-21 09:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: A piece of baby gate hit the back of his head. Pansy shook her head lightly, looking exasperated. “I’m going to call Harry.”“No.” The response was automatic, out of his mouth before he could think about it. “Not Potter."Scorpius is the best thing that ever happened to Draco. Really. But that doesn't mean there aren't challenges. When it becomes clear Draco needs some expert advice as to how to manage Scorp's accidental magic, Draco get's more than he bargained for.





	Baby Gate

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt #[134](https://docs.google.com/document/d/16er_sVwwFtbVQxtiFqHRWhw09kwNYhywsB-R48qtVPU/edit#).
> 
> Biggest of thanks to my amazing cheerleaders/betas C+A, couldn't have done it without you<3

Draco watched as the pink bubbles slowly drifted towards the surface. They popped gently as soon as they went to leave the jar, dusting the clear red fluid with purple glitter. There was no purpose to the potion, other than that his son greatly enjoyed watching it. 

Sometimes he wished Scorp could be addicted to something a bit less… interfering with his profession. Elizabeth, Pansy’s daughter, could be entertained all day just by putting  _ Frozen _ on repeat, but the only thing that interested Scorpius seemed to be his job. 

It wasn’t always a problem, given that his kid spent half the week at his mother’s place, but not all potions could be brewed in a few days. Sometimes he needed space to work without his son near. A potions lab was no place for a toddler. 

“They’re pretty.” Scorpius sighed in delight. He happily tapped the glass, causing more bubbles to rise up and burst. Draco was worried about what this would mean for his son’s future fashion sense if he thought the most hideous, colour clashing combination his father could think of was pretty. 

“If you’re a good boy when Pansy comes then I’ll show them to you again tonight, deal?” 

Draco tried to keep some sort of optimism in his voice. Maybe today would be the day he got to work in peace for a few hours. Scorpius loved his godmother. Maybe there was a chance the new baby gate would survive the afternoon this time. 

It would be a first. 

His son pouted, eyes growing damp. “You going? But I wanna stay! No leaving, please?”

“I’m not leaving, Scorpius. I’ll just be over here, in another room,” he fought to keep himself from sighing. Of course he loved his son, more than anything in the world in fact, but object permanence didn’t seem to be Scorpius’ strong suit. “Daddy has to work, okay? That’s what being an adult means.”

“That’s dumb,” Scorpius’ lips drew into a thin line, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. People could say a lot about Draco’s son, but not that the little guy lacked character. “I wanna stay with you.”

“But you can’t always stay with me, Scorp,” Draco pressed a kiss into his son’s curly blond hair. “No matter how much you want to.”

It was his fault of course, Scorpius’ separation anxiety. He was the one who’d failed. Astoria could handle it. She had loved being married to one of her best friends, but for Draco it had been suffocating, especially once his wife got pregnant. He’d followed his parents’ wishes and family traditions nearly into his death, but after the war he’d been so lost in his freedom that, as soon as his father got out of Azkaban, the man had taken over Draco’s life again. And Draco had let him. 

Marriage, a family, managing the estate, they all seemed to be good things. The lack of romance and freedom in his life was a small price to pay in exchange for certainty. He hadn’t been raised to make his own choices. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

Or at least not until Astoria got pregnant. Only then did he realise that at the very least, he didn’t want  _ this _ . Because if he didn’t make his own decisions when raising Scorpius, then would he not repeat his father’s mistakes? He couldn’t do that to his son. 

Draco had lived a life of wealth and plenty, but even before the Dark Lord rose again he’d been a deeply unhappy child. His father threw expensive gifts at him, but never a smile. The man was only proud of him if he was the best at everything he did, always disappointed at the slightest shortcoming. 

And while his mother loved him, she had been wasting away. Everything in her life was a rule, a tradition. The kiss before bed, the parties she hosted, the robes she wore, everything dictated by manners and men. The strangest thing happened when Lucius had gone to Azkaban at the end of Draco’s fifth year. Though the manor grew dark, his mother almost lit up, after she got over the scare of it all. She might not be in charge of her own destiny, but she wasn’t locked away by rules either. 

Draco only saw that many years later though, when fleeing from the same suffocating rules already meant leaving a wife and child. He could still feel the slap on his face from when Astoria found him, panicking at the edge of the Forbidden Forest after a visit to Dumbledore’s tomb. Even now, with both he and Astoria a million times better off than before their divorce, he felt guilty about that. About running out on his wife and son. 

“You, Draco Malfoy, are the most pathetic excuse of a husband I’ve ever met,” she’d told him just after hitting him in the face. “But you are my best friend, and since my husband just fucked off to Merlin knows where, I’m going to need your help. I’m not raising this kid on my own.”

Draco smiled at the thought. He didn’t deserve Astoria, but he’d needed her more than oxygen in that moment. Still did. Ex-wife or not, she was the most marvelous person he’d ever met. 

“I miss you.” Scorpius clung to his sweater with one of his small fists. With the other he clung to Draco’s arm. It was endearing, but also increasingly a problem. The whole debacle with his marriage, running away, the divorce, and his coming out shortly after had all accumulated into his disinheritance. He didn’t like calling himself poor, but he was definitely no longer wealthy and he really needed to work. 

“I’m still here Scorp,” he gave his son a pat on the back, but then began to pry his small fingers loose. Pansy would arrive soon. “And I’ll still be here when Pansy comes, but I’ll be in my lab and you will be in the living room, okay?”

Scorpius stayed silent, but reluctantly let go of Draco’s sweater. Draco didn’t press any further. He felt out of his depth, but had no idea how to go about looking for help. For now he just hoped Pansy could keep Scorpius entertained, and the baby gate would survive the afternoon.

* * *

Draco saw the catastrophe before he heard it. The small bubbles in his delicate draught of the living dead variation potion went flat, killed by a wave of underage magic. Two seconds later, a piece of blown-up baby gate hit the back of his head. 

Draco sighed.

“Shit! Oh crap, sorry Draco. I just went to the bathroom for two seconds, I thought he would be okay, he-,”

Draco held up a hand to silence a distressed Pansy. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even Scorius’ fault, nor that of the baby gate. His cowardice had caused this, just like it had cause every other shitty thing in his life. But now was not the time for self pity. Now was the time to think about how on earth he was going to make his rent that month if he kept exploding all of his expensive ingredients.

After he’d calmed down his son, of course. 

“I’m sorry daddy, I thought you were-,” the crying toddler began, eyes growing wet as he stood at the top of the stairs to his lab. The baby gate was blasted to smithereens. 

“You thought I was gone,” Draco scooped up his son and held him close. It probably didn’t help, his inability to get mad at Scorpius, but he just couldn’t blame the little guy for this. None of this would have been an issue if Draco hadn’t tried to run away from his own family instead of talking to his wife like a normal person. “But I’m not, Scorpius. It’s okay. But next time, please just call down for me, okay? I promise you, I’ll always be right here when you need me, but you can’t run into my potions lab every time you feel like it.”

Scorpius sniffed, but nodded. Pansy shot him a look that was a mix of concern and what could only be pity. Draco tried not to look at her. 

“I’m sorry daddy,” Scorpius sniffed into his neck. For a moment, Draco felt like doing much the same. Having a good cry was the only relief he could think of. Not many people wanted to rent to him, and if he couldn’t get his lab secure, he wouldn’t be able to afford this place for much longer. There were hardly any other places that he could go. 

Pansy shook her head lightly before speaking, looking exasperated. “I’m going to call Harry.”

“No.” The response was automatic, out of his mouth before he could think about it. “Not Potter. I can’t afford him right now, and I won’t be a charity case. I’ll think of something else.”

“No you won’t, because this isn’t about you, it’s about your son,” Pansy’s eyes flared with rarely seen anger. Draco didn’t know who trembled more under the look, him or his son. “Look, Draco, you can go back to brewing Pepper-up Potions day and night when Scorpius is with his mother, but we both know that’s not a real solution. You’ve got a brilliant mind and you need time to work on good, well-priced potions. Hence, you need a proper baby gate. It’s my present and I forbid you to say no to it.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, until Pansy resolutely turned around and disappeared into the floo. She’d been pestering him to go to Potter even before she’d taken over the financial side of the man’s business. He was the best in the business, creating child-friendly homes even for the most stressed, traumatised, or highly-sensitive kids in magical Brittain. 

At first Draco hadn’t wanted to admit he really had that kind of problem. Then he’d refused purely because it was  _ Potter _ , and now his funds were too low. Highly sought after meant highly priced, except for families who got to him through Ministry aid programs. But even if Draco had been desperate enough for that, he doubted he’d ever be allowed on benefits. Plus, his father would kill him before he let that happen, disinherited or not. 

_ Merlin _ , but he hated being poor, especially with Scorpius around. It was so humiliating. Every day he  felt a little bit more ashamed for making fun of the Weasley’s for their lack of money, and prayed to Merlin that Scorpius wouldn’t blame himself for their financial situation one day. Having a child might be expensive, but that was  _ his _ problem, not his son’s. Besides, one cannot put a price on happiness, especially a happiness as cute and sweet as Scorp. 

“Daddy?” Draco was snapped out of his thoughts by the small voice of his son. “Are you mad at me?”

“No darling,” Draco kissed the top of Scorp’s head. “Of course I’m not mad at you. I’m just a bit sad because me being gone upsets you so much.” 

“I’m just scared you’ll be gone one day,” Scorpius whispered. “And that you won’t come back.”

“Well I promise I will never be gone, Scorp.” He tried to bring it with some confidence, then maybe he’d start believing it himself too. “And I’ll always come back.”

* * *

Pansy sent him an owl, saying ‘ _ Harry _ ’ had time for him next Saturday. At least that was an Astoria weekend. Draco didn’t know how he would respond to seeing Potter again after all these years, but he was certain he didn’t want his son to see it. Not yet, at any rate. 

“He’s not that bad, you know,” Pansy shoved him in the ribs the afternoon Potter was scheduled to arrive. Draco’s eyes had been darting between the clock and the hearth for fifteen minutes now. It was probably driving her mad. “And who knows, maybe you two will hit it off. Both divorced, both convinced their ex-wife is a million times more competent than they are, both single parents, both dumb neurotic idiots, need I go on?”

As she said that last bit, she snagged the pen Draco had been molesting out of his hands. The thing was barely fit for writing by this point, and his lap was covered with little pieces of plastic. Draco could swear he didn’t use to be such a mess, but according to his therapist (from back when he still had a therapist), that’s what PTSD did to a person. 

“You’ll be fine, Draco. He won’t bite,” Pansy flashed him a conspiratory smile. “At least not unless you ask him very nicely.”

Draco nearly choked on his tea as he saw her wiggle her eyebrows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That he’s at least a tiny bit bi-curious, this desperate little housefather you’re about to entertain.” Pansy’s smile was now positively predatory. “If you like stupidity crossed with power and a too-good-for-this-world hero complex, may I suggest the bend and snap?”

“ _ Pansy! _ ” Draco hissed, just as the floo flared up.  _ Great _ , his first time meeting Potter since their awkward post-trial talk, and he was red as a beet. If he survived this meeting he was going to  _ strangle _ his best friend. The bloody bint. 

“Ah, Malfoy. Good to see you.” For a ‘ desperate little housefather’, Potter was surprisingly confident as he crossed the rug and held out a hand for Draco to shake. He was also surprisingly fit, muscled,  _ bouncy _ almost. Like he had too much energy for his body. 

Draco’s mouth instantly went dry. 

“Potter.” He shook the man’s hand after pausing just a second too long, his skin embarrassingly clammy. The fierce blush appeared to be the least of his problems. “It’s good to, eh, well, thanks for coming.”

_ Thanks?! _ Since when did he say thanks? Or stutter through an introduction? It was as if his entire upbringing had suddenly flown out the window. He suppressed a deep sigh, and tried to recompose himself. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I would, actually. My morning was a bit hectic, I haven’t had anything yet.” And then, as if the Gods above were playing some sort of cruel game with him, Potter  _ smiled _ , and it was  _ rude _ , because it made him too  _ pretty _ and that was just  _ unfair _ . “Do you have mint tea, by any chance?”

“Eh…” was all that came out of his mouth, while the voice inside his head screamed  _ he has dimples! Harry Potter has dimples! _ It must really have been too long since his last fling if he got this bad over a simple smile. Or maybe people just weren’t nice to him a lot, and he’d forgotten how nice that felt. 

“He does. Even has fresh leaves of the stuff, prissy tea snob,” Pansy snickered, getting off the couch as she did. “I’ll get the kettle going, so you two boys can discuss business.”

The bint threw a suggestive smile and a wiggle of her eyebrows Draco’s way as she walked off. Draco was going to  _ murder  _ her. As soon as he figured out how to human again. 

“Alright then, thanks Pans.” Draco snapped out of his trance when he heard Potter call Pansy  _ Pans _ . Since when were those two so close? And more importantly, why had Pansy never mentioned that? The sudden realisation that Pansy had a life and friends outside of him, that he might have  _ competition _ for his lifelong spot as best friend, that was exactly what he needed to hear. 

“So, Potter.” He crossed his legs and sat up straighter. “You think you can make me a baby gate that doesn’t explode after one week?”

“Well if I can’t, I doubt anyone else can.”

“Cocky, much?”

“More like I’m the only one in the magical baby gate business,” Potter replied, even though he  _ did _ have a cocky smile on his face. In fear of losing his sanity again, Draco decided not to pay too much attention to that. “Why exactly does your baby gate keep exploding?”

“My son doesn’t like me being out of sight,” he said it with a shrug, as if the issue was caused by him being a too brilliant dad, instead of his own cowardice. “Especially not in my potions lab, so he keeps breaking into it. At one point it was cute, but I need to be able to work.”

Potter raised his eyebrows. “Can’t you drop him off at a babysitter or a daycare centre?” 

“Are you implying you’re not up to the job, Potter?” He asked, carefully avoiding the question. Truth was, he didn’t trust other people with his son. Young as though he was, Scorpius still had the last name ‘Malfoy’, and with that came a whole lot of hate and hostility.

“Of course not.” A strange glint came into Potter’s eyes. “I never back down from a good challenge.”

“But are you any good at the challenge?” Draco raised an eyebrow at his guest, glad that the more he talked, the easier it got to talk to Potter without stumbling over his words or having a stroke. “Because I’ve enforced all muggle baby gates I got with the strongest protection spells I know and it didn’t work, even though I lived in a Death Eater headquarters for three years of my life.”

Potter didn’t seem to know what to say to that. It felt good to render the other man speechless for once, even if he’d done it by bringing up the war. It wasn’t as if there was still any bad blood between them. They’d talked it all out with an unhealthy amount of fire whiskey just after his trial, when Potter gave him back his wand. 

“Why-, eh, what kind of spells did you use then?” Potter asked eventually, as he tried to look everywhere but at him. “I don’t want to repeat something that doesn’t work.”

“Just the basics. Locking charms, soft barriers, hard barriers, enforcement charms, anti explosion wards, light confusion spells, sleeping charms, endless circle charms, tickle charms, alarm spells. I have a list somewhere.” Draco got up from the couch to rummage in a nearby drawer. He’d love to get his life a bit more organised, but with all this toddler baby gate work drama there just didn’t seem to be any time left in his day to clean. He already felt lucky if he caught five hours of sleep. 

“Ah, there we go.” He pulled out a notebook that looked rather worse for wear. It was both sticky and swollen from the time Scorpius had spilled his apple juice on it. Charming it clean had little to no effect. Draco suspected his son’s accidental magic was to blame for it; Scorpius  _ hated _ that notebook. “I’m afraid it’s not the cleanest thing I own, you can thank my son for that.”

“Where is your son now, actually?” Potter asked as he accepted the book. When his fingers touched the sticky front he pulled a face, though he quickly tried to hide it. That roughly reminded Draco that he didn’t have much to be house proud about. In the end he was just an exhausted single father who failed to keep on top of things, especially concerning his son and his finances. “I had expected to see him.”

“He’s with his mother.” Draco snapped. He suddenly wished the house call would be over already. Potter being here made him feel too exposed. “We divorced shortly after Scorpius was born. He doesn’t like being left alone ever since.”

“Oh.” Potter at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

Draco didn’t know how to respond to that, but luckily the arrival of Pansy with tea meant he didn’t have to. The rest of the meeting was mostly taking measurements, testing charms and Pansy doing all the talking. Draco was happy to sink down on the couch as a pile of human misery by the time Potter finally disappeared into the floo. 

“I hate people,” he sighed.

“Oh darling…” Pansy gave him a look of annoyed exasperation and plopped down on the couch next to him. “People hate you too.”

“Thanks babe,” Draco snorted, before sinking back into his pit of despair. “I’m never getting off this couch again.”

“Interesting parenting strategy.” 

Draco groaned and buried his head in Pansy’s lap. “Don’t remind me. I love Scorpius more than anything, but I have to work and make money and raise him and not get killed by some lunatic each time I shop for ingredients and I’m  _ tired _ . I’m so, so tired, Pans.”

“I know darling.” Pansy pushed her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp like she’d done so many times before. “I know it’s hard work, but it has to be done. And it’ll be so much easier once you have a functional baby gate, I promise.”

But Draco didn’t want to listen to her. Not now, not when every emotion he felt screamed at him to cry or bolt or just  _ stop _ . He would be responsible in ten minutes, be a father, a potioneer, a good friend. But right now, he just had to allow himself to  _ feel _ for a moment.

Otherwise the baby gate wouldn’t be the only thing to explode in his house. 

* * *

The baby gate came a week later, and not a minute too soon. Draco had managed to get a large order for a localised anesthetic potion, notoriously hard to brew but very well paid. But he’d only manage to fulfill the order if he could rely on the new baby gate. 

“So you’re sure it’ll work?” Draco was skeptic, he didn’t want an explosion anywhere near his delicate brewing process. “What charms did you put on it?”

“Not the traditional kind, I can assure you.” Somehow Potter didn’t sound annoyed or insulted by having his skills questioned, he almost sounded  _ fond _ . Which just annoyed Draco more. “It’s a combination of things, including some runes and a specific type of wood used for the gate itself. Especially designed for the explosiveness of uncontrolled children’s magic. No one can open it but you, or other adults you key into the wards.”

Potter spent the rest half an hour explaining how to open and close the gate, and how to allow others to access his lab. He hoped Pansy was paying attention, because with his lack of sleep from the last few days he had a difficult time focusing on anything other than Potter looking so  _ damned good _ in his handyman clothes. 

It was a relief when the man left again, though this time he didn’t fall apart right after. If he got a head start on his brewing now, he could spend more time with Scorpius later. Keeping the little guy out of his lab properly was surely going to upset him. There had to be time for ice cream and pizza night afterwards. 

To his relief and surprise, the first few days the baby gate stayed in tact. Scorpius really didn’t like it, but when Draco bribed his son by letting him sleep in the big bed things improved a bit. Their bedtime routine took four times as long now, but at least it didn’t end in tears. 

Looking back, Draco should have known it wouldn’t last. He’d always had a knack for getting in over his head, by combining studying for the highest marks with quidditch practice, by ignoring all the signs until there was no way out of getting the Dark Mark, by marrying Astoria, by having a child. Too cowardly to ask for help, back away, or make difficult decisions until they were made for him, and never in his best interest. In this case, it was the volatile erumpent horn shavings that decided he really should have paid more attention to his lack of sleep before brewing. 

It was too late now to take a quick nap. As the potion boiled over, it started to look like he might just sleep forever. Draco had no time to think about that though. His world went black before he could.

* * *

“Daddy!” Scorpius had been staring at the clock, crayons abandoned all around him. He didn’t really know what time it was, but he knew if he listened to a lot of ticks, his dad would eventually come back. But now there wasn’t just a tick, there was also a bang, and he knew  _ he _ hadn’t caused it this time. He’d been trying so hard not to do that. “Daddy, come back!”

Scorpius ran into the hallway, the one where he wasn’t supposed to go. The new baby gate was still there. He was so focused on the smoke coming out of the lab that he didn’t see it though, and ran right into it. 

As opposed to all the other times he’d tried to get into the lab, this time the baby gate didn’t budge. Scorpius was thrown back on the floor and started crying as soon as his bum hit the carpet. His dad! His dad was behind the gate, just like the fire and smoke he could see in the doorway. 

“Dad! Daddy! Come back! Fire!” His voice started to crack. There was so much smoke, he could barely see the door anymore. “Daddy! Daddy help, please…”

The smoke made him cough, but it was the heat of the fire that drove him back into the living room. His daddy had always said that when he was scared for him, he should tell Aunt Pansy. And Aunt Pansy always came in through the fireplace. 

Scorpius had never used the floo by himself, but he knew his dad always threw in something from the jar on the mantle. He couldn’t reach the jar, but just as he began to panic about that, the thing fell over onto the carpet. He scooped up the weird black stuff and threw it in the hearth. 

“Aunt Pansy!” Scorpius called out as soon as the flames turned green. He knew his dad usually stepped into the flames, but it was so hot in the room, and what if he’d got burned? There was no one else around to help his dad. It was his job to fix this. “Aunt Pansy!”

He couldn’t keep yelling, overcome by a sudden coughing fit. The smoke was rapidly filling the living room. Scorpius hoped that meant it was leaving the potions lab. Maybe the fire would relocate too, that would keep his dad safe. 

Suddenly the flames in the fireplace rose up. Seconds later, a strange man stood before him. He clearly wasn’t Pansy, but from what Scorpius could see through his tears he had black hair just like his Aunt. That would have to do. 

“Daddy’s there!” Scorpius pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the lab. He looked up at the strange man. “Help!”

The man said something then, but Scorpius didn’t catch it, overcome by another coughing fit. Something was cast over him that stopped the smoke from hurting his eyes and throat, then the man was gone. Scorpius tried to follow him but the bubble the man had cast kept him in place. He hoped the man would save his dad, that he’d be okay. He kept hoping until his sight went black and he passed out on the rug. 

* * *

Harry’s hands would not stop shaking. He didn’t know why. Surely being in a hospital waiting room was less terrifying than running into a burning laboratory? Or, let’s say, defeating Voldemort? 

But he couldn’t stop. No matter how many times he told himself Malfoy would pull through, or that Scorpius’ lungs didn’t have any lasting damage, or that he didn’t even fucking  _ know _ Malfoy. Not really. He’d thought he did, but Pansy had bugged him about giving Malfoy a second chance for so long he’d agreed to it. 

He’d flooed over to Malfoy’s house, expecting a snobby kid and an arrogant father, someone who had been somewhat apologetic at the end of the war but still a dick. Instead he found himself in a living room littered with toys and crayons and pictures and blankets and everything cozy and nice anyone could ever wish for. Malfoy wasn’t snobby or aloof, he was  _ adorable _ , blushing like that, defensive and fierce but also clearly insecure. 

The Draco Malfoy Harry knew was never insecure. Not that openly, at any rate. But from everything he’d seen so far, the Malfoy Harry knew didn’t exist anymore. The man had grown to become a father, a brilliant ex husband, an amazing best friend. 

But he’d also gotten hurt. And with him and his child to haul out of the fire, Harry hadn’t managed to save the house or any sort of personal belongings. Pansy kept telling him it was fine, they were alive, she couldn’t give a flying hippogriff cunt about the stuff lost in the fire and he should just let it go. 

But he couldn’t. Because Draco Malfoy wasn’t who he thought he’d be. Because his son was the bravest, most adorable little guy he’d ever seen. Because for the first eleven years of his life he’d had two paperclips and a toothpick as personal belongings and that was it. While Malfoy was in hospital with his son, slowly recovering from his burns and smoke inhalation, Harry wanted to  _ do _ something. He wasn’t made for sitting in a waiting room hoping for some positive news. Patience had never been his virtue. 

“Pansy, what’s Draco’s favourite colour?” It felt weird, calling him  _ Draco _ , but he felt like the name Malfoy didn’t fit the man he’d met the week before. “And what’s Scorpius’?”

Pansy looked at him for a very long time in silent surprise before she replied. 

“Purple and green, like you see in moorlands in bloom. And Scorp likes everything that clashes and glitters. Red, pink, purple, yellow, the more neon the better.” 

“Thanks!” Harry grinned and pressed a spontaneous kiss to Pansy’s forehead. However unlikely, he’d really grown fond of her, and he had to do something with the new energy he’d gotten now that he had a new project. One that would hopefully be a bit safer than the baby gate. “Keep me posted when anything changes! I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

There was a spring in his step as he left the hospital. As soon as Draco fully woke up, he’d have the perfect gift for him. Now all he had to do was adjust some colours, and find a way to make Draco accept it. Because of course the last thing Harry wanted to do was make the man feel like a charity case when he was already so down in the dumps. 

That wouldn’t do at all if he wanted to get in Draco’s good books.

* * *

“Harry’s got a crush on you,” Pansy noted when she saw Draco had woken up. They finally had some alone time now that Astoria had gone out with Scorpius for a bit. “And you didn’t even have to do the bend and snap. I’m impressed.”

“What?” Draco tried to push himself up, but moving appeared to be too painful. “Pans, I’m covered in second and third degree burns, I’m in a lot of pain. Why would you tell me that? I don’t care.”

“Your lifelong crush finally shows an interest in you and you don’t care?” Pansy raised an eyebrow, but pulled it back down again when she took a proper look at Draco’s face. Half of his legs were covered in severe burns, and despite the medication Draco was still in a lot of pain. She hadn’t really noticed that before, thinking a good potion would take care of it all. Apparently, she’d been mistaken. 

“I’m sorry, I can see that’s not what you want to hear right now.” She reached out and gently took hold of his hand. At least those were largely undamaged. “Anything I can do to cheer you up, hey? I hate seeing you so unhappy.”

“Other than my son being safe, what’s there to be happy about?” Draco looked away from her, though that did nothing to hide his tears. Pansy was shocked. It had been years since she’d seen her best friend cry out of desperation. “I lost my home, my lab, my belongings, and you know I’m skint. I’ll have to move back in with Astoria and you know we fight when we’re under the same roof.” Draco then proceeded to let out the most devastated, sad sigh she’d ever heard. “I thought I could do this. Turns out I can’t. I’m no good at being a father.”

It took her a minute to recover from that. Pansy didn’t cry. No one would take her seriously if she did, constantly accusing her of being hormonal or on her period. But while working for Harry, she’d gone soft. With the harassment from her previous job gone, her walls had come down and now she couldn’t help but sob. 

Draco tried  _ so hard _ to be the greatest dad in the world. So hard to move on from his past, to fight the stigma, to come out as gay, to fend for himself, to learn how to be independent. But luck never seemed to shine his way. Not in the last decade, at any rate.

“Don’t say that.” She squeezed his hand. Her voice was hoarse from tears but Draco didn’t even seem to notice. “Draco don’t you dare say that. Scorpius is the most adorable little guy I’ve ever met. He might have some issues but they’re all just because he loves you so  _ damned _ much. Every time I have a parenting issue, I come to you. Every time I need inspiration or to vent or a babysitter, I come to you and you know  _ damned well  _ that’s not because you’re my best friend. I wouldn’t let Blaise baby sit if I got a million galleons for it.”

She took a deep breath, trying not to release too much hell and fury on Draco’s low self-esteem because that probably wouldn’t help her cause. 

“It’s not your fault that the universe seems to enjoy throwing crap your way.” Draco still wasn’t looking at her, but he did pull her hand to his chest and hugged it gently. Even in pain in the hospital Draco refused to ask for anything but the bare minimum of comfort. Pansy used to think he was cold, but now she knew he was incredibly warm but also isolated and scared. “You don’t deserve this. You paid your dues a long long time ago, you deserve better than all the crap people keep throwing at you.”

Draco let out a deep sigh but remained quiet, still refusing to look at her. Eventually he closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep. Pansy stayed awake and watched him. When Astoria came back with Scorpius, she replaced her hand with the young boy. Draco’s son seemed to understand his father needed rest, and curled up really quietly right beside him. As soon as Scorp was in his arms, Draco seemed to calm down. 

Pansy bit her bottom lip. She wished she had a camera, this was easily the cutest thing she’d ever seen. 

“Of all the people this could have happened to…” Astoria sighed besides her, the dark rings under her eyes even more prominent as she let go of her brave face for the day. “It had to be them.  _ Him _ . Why did it have to be him?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just thank every Goddess we know that they came out alive.” Pansy gave Astoria a pat on the back, but when she went to make a move to sit next to the bed, Pansy stopped her. “I’ll call Harry for the night shift. You look like you need a good meal and a proper bed, and you know my daughter loves you.”

Astoria looked relieved to the bone at the offer. She’d spent the first three nights in the hospital when Scorpius wouldn’t stop crying without her, and Draco could hardly sleep from the pain. “I’d kill for a good night’s sleep.”

“But you don’t have to,” Pansy winked at her. “You just have to cook us dinner.”

Astoria elbowed her in the ribs. Pansy laughed quietly in response and together they left the room. Just as they reached the floo, Pansy texted Harry. 

_ Christmas came early, boss dear. You’re on night duty for Draco. Don’t be late (and on time was 5 minutes ago) _

* * *

“You’re not mum.” 

Harry found himself caught off guard by the big, grey eyes of the toddler hiding behind his dad, saying undeniably true things. The little guy stared at him with mild distrust. They had met again after the fire, but Scorpius had been clinging to his mother so fiercely Harry wasn’t sure if the kid had seen him at all. 

“No, I’m not,” Harry confirmed, trying to look kind and unthreatening despite barely being awake enough to have his eyes open. “Your Aunt Pansy asked me to be here. We work together. I came to help you when you flooed her about the fire. The healers think you saved his life with your accidental magic.”

If possible, Scorpius’ eyes widened even more. “You’re the hairy man.”

Harry couldn’t help it, he had to laugh. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that name, but he knew he liked it very much. “Yes I am.”

“Shhhh.” Scorpius gave him an angry look, one that told Harry it wouldn’t be too long before the kid could glare like his Aunt Pansy. “Daddy sleeps.”

“Sorry,” Harry whispered back. He pulled up his knees and wrapped himself properly in his transfigured duvet, hoping to make himself smaller and less threatening to the kid. “Why am I the hairy man?”

Scorpius had to think about that for a bit. 

“You have hair,” he said eventually, in a tone of voice that reminded Harry strangely of Hermione when she had to explain something very simple to him. “And you’re a man.”

“Oh.” There really wasn’t much Harry could say to that. And it might be for the best if he stayed quiet too. It was difficult to keep himself from reaching out and giving little Scorp a hug. He was so tiny and protective of his wonderful dad, and he looked so cute hiding behind Draco under the blankets. 

It was why Harry did what he did. Kids were so pure, so innocent; they didn’t deserve to suffer because of their accidental magic, or any sort of trauma or negativity. They deserved a place to play, a place to let go without worry. No one was ever going to grow up in a cupboard anymore as long as Harry had any say in it. 

“Can you save my daddy again?”

Harry was abruptly pulled out of his ponderings by the unexpected question. 

“What do I have to save him from?”

“The bad people,” Scorpius replied, eyes darting around as if he were scared the bad people were in the room. “The potion people. They’re mean to my daddy. They hurt him.”

Harry sat up, hoping very hard the bad people were just something made up. The shadow under the bed, the monster in the closet, not an actual threat. “What do you mean, hurt him?” 

“He buys inge-, ingri-,” Scorpius was wrestling with the word. “ _ Things _ for potions. He comes back hurt. I love my daddy. He can’t get hurt. Will you help him?”

Harry’s eyes went wide.  _ Shit _ . These weren’t just some made up monsters. This was harassment. And with the still rough political climate out there, it honestly shouldn’t surprise him that Draco still had to deal with that. But it did. A lot. How could anyone hurt such a great dad? The man who’d had a sweet wrapper stuck in his hair the first time they met about the baby gate? The man who Pansy kept claiming was ‘the best babysitter in the world! I can finally sleep even though my daughter’s teething’?

“I’ll help him, yes,” Harry agreed without a second thought. He’d always been drawn to Malfoy, but he was downright fascinated with Draco. “I’ll talk to him when he’s awake, okay?”

Scorpius nodded, leaning over his dad’s shoulder so Harry could see more than just his eyes. He was wearing blue pyjamas with brightly coloured yellow dinosaurs, Harry saw now. It appeared Pansy hadn’t been wrong telling him Scorpius loved everything bright and ugly. Harry couldn’t wait to introduce the little guy to Luna, if Draco ever allowed that. Or Molly. They’d be smitten within a second. 

After Harry fantasized away for a bit, a cheeky smile grew on Scorpius’ face. “Pancakes?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You want pancakes?” 

Scorpius nodded enthusiastically, cheeky smile turning into a grin. 

“Well I can’t say no to that face,” Harry chuckled, untangling himself from his blanket. 

“Glad I’m not the only one,” came a sleepy mumble from under the covers. Harry and Scorpius both turned their heads in surprise when they heard Draco was awake. “Also, Potter, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Eh, Pansy sent me.” Harry wasn’t really sure what to do now. Had he talked to candidly with Scorpius? He didn’t want to come across as some sort of creep. And was he supposed to get pancakes now or…? 

“That bint.” Draco groaned as he turned from his side onto his back, muttering another few words not meant for polite company as he did so. 

It was quite enough to pull Harry out of his thought spiral. He gaped at Draco for a full five seconds before he recovered from that. “Aren’t you supposed to, eh, not say bad words in front of a child?”

“Maybe,” Draco yawned. “But my child is cute so he can get away with it.”

Scorpius looked very pleased with himself when he heard that, a big grin plastered on his face. “I’m cute!” 

Harry and Draco both started laughing at the same time, though Draco soon quit. It looked like laughing was too painful. From what Harry had heard from Hermione, at three am while she was torn between exasperation and anger as he panicked about Draco through the floo, burn wounds were very painful to heal. Because of course this entire disaster hadn’t been bad enough for Draco yet. 

“Can I-, can I get you anything? Water? A nurse? Eh, pancakes?” Harry knew he was rambling but he didn’t know what else to do. It suddenly felt very private, being in the hospital room with Draco and Scorpius, and Harry didn’t feel like he belonged there. “I can bake my own, if you don’t like the hospital cafeteria food?”

Draco gave him a weird look.  _ Fuck _ . Had he gone too far again? He’d known how to deal with Draco on a professional basis before, but not like this. Hermione hadn’t dragged him off to special trainings on  _ how to offer pancakes to someone you fancy who is in hospital and also has an adorable son who makes your heart melt _ . Something like that suddenly sounded much more practical than bullshit on  _ how to give a sales talk _ . 

“Why do you care so much?” Draco asked in an almost small voice, just in time to save Harry from half a panic attack. “You hardly know me.”

“I know your favourite colour is moorland green and purple.”  _ Fuck. Shit _ . Not that! Of all the things he could have said, he had to pick that one. Now he was definitely being creepy, he even found himself creepy. 

Draco raised one sharp eyebrow. “And why on earth would you know that?” 

“I, eh, I made you something. So I, eh, I asked Pansy what your favourite colour was. Both of your favourite colours!” He added hastily, not wanting Scorpius to feel left out. After all, the present was mainly designed for him. “I’m not, eh, not, not really sure if this is the right time. There aren’t even any pancakes! But yeah, eh, I made this, for you. Well, not specifically, I’d made it before, but I adapted it, and, eh, I’d like you to test it out. That is, if you want to. It’s a prototype.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say  _ eh _ that many times in one go,” Draco noted as Harry dug around in his bag to retrieve the present. If Harry hadn’t been noticeably red before, he was now. Maybe that  _ how to give a sales talk _ training hadn’t been such bullshit after all. 

“Here you go,” Harry said hastily, afraid he’d start stumbling over his words if he tried to say anything more. He put the parcel on the bed, where it was immediately examined by a curious Scorpius. It was about the size of a large laptop bag, since that had been Harry’s base. Everything else was hidden by extension charms. 

He didn’t look as he heard what he thought was Scorpius tearing the brown paper off, too nervous about their response. Stupid, of course, because without an explanation it would just look like he’d gotten them a laptop bag. 

“A… grey bag?” Harry looked up right into the very confused face of Draco Malfoy. “Thank you?”

“No it’s not just the bag! It’s what’s inside it. Do you know Newt Scamander’s suitcase? He enlarged and charmed it on the inside so he had a place to keep his animals and I did the same thing with that bag. Only it’s not for animals it’s for kids. Like a safe space, where you can play and such without having to worry about accidental magic.” 

Harry was rambling again, but he found it to be an improvement on his stutter from before. “I made a room in there for you too. Since your house is sort of, eh, ruined, I figured this way you’d at least have a place to stay. And I needed people to help me test it anyway, so this is kind of perfect.”

While Scorpius was happily entertaining himself with the gift wrap, Draco stared at him. If he had been any less well mannered, his mouth might have hung open. But Harry really wanted to make sure the man didn’t see it as charity, because it wasn’t (it was an attempt to woo Draco obviously), so he rambled on some more. 

“Once I figure out how to make a good number of them, Hermione wants to give them to muggleborns so they can get a taste of magic without leaving the house or creeping out their parents. That means I could really use your feedback, if you’re open for that. I made sure it’s safe but I don’t know if it’s user friendly enough and such. I’d just pop by every two weeks once you start using it.”

“Opportunistic,” Draco murmured as he slowly unzipped the bag. “Would have made a good Slytherin.”

“I almost was,” Harry blurted. “I just begged the hat not to. Your House has a bad rep. I don’t know why, Pansy is a delight.”

Draco gave him a sharp look, immediately calling him out on his bullshit. “Okay, Pansy is terrifying, but she’s very efficient!”

Draco shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Just keep her away from Granger. If those two hit it off there’s not enough laptop bags in the world to save us.”

“Oh Merlin,” Harry shuddered at the idea. “I’d have to actually start eating my vegetables.”

“How you survived this far, I’ll never know.” Draco snorted, though his eyes seemed strangely wet for someone who looked amused. “Speaking of vegetables, how are the pancakes coming along?”

And now Harry understood why. He might be thickheaded, yes, but he wasn’t blind, and it was his turn to use the bisexual braincell this week. Quickly he got up to give the two of them some privacy. “I’ll get to them. Be back in half an hour. And if Pansy discovers I left, tell her I moved to Australia.”

“Will do, Potter,” Draco replied just before Harry closed the door. As he walked past the room’s window, he saw Draco hug Scorpius close to his chest. It put a smile on his face. With or without his help, those two were going to be okay. But with his help, it might happen a little sooner. 

And Harry was more than happy to help, if it meant he got to bake them pancakes. And maybe at some point he would get to make them lunch and dinner too. But for now, he was more than happy to mix some batter.

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the ending wasn't disappointing. I wanted to write them getting together, but it would have been way too rushed and this felt like a natural place to stop. I hope it was still a nice read.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


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